Delusional Truths
by IAspireToSleep
Summary: Batman saves Gotham and it's people from people like the Joker. But perhaps this is not the truth. Or rather, it is not the whole truth. Arkham AU
1. Chapter 1

The skies have opened and pour their laments onto the city below. Flashes of lightning illuminate a caped figure perched on the overhang of an old factory. The bright lights of the stores lining the streets and the flow of people have captivated the figure's attention. Or rather, one person has.

'Tch.'

The caped man jumps from his perch and runs across the rooftops, keeping pace with a man below who is pushing against the crowds. The man looks around wildly and catches sight of the caped crusader. His fear is evident and he races from the populated streets toward the alley. The backstreets of Gotham are a maze; the man is far more likely to escape detection in the grime than out in the open.

 _Thump._ Someone lands behind the frenzied man.

A hand grabs the back of the man's collar and pulls him back so that he is face to face with the embodiment of darkness itself: The Batman.

'Where is he.' It was more than a statement than an actual question.

'I-I don't k-k-know…. please…. I-' The man pleaded desperately with the dark enigma.

'Where is he?' Batman repeated his question and yanked the man closer to his face. 'I won't ask again.'

'I've never met him before! I-I'm sorry sir! He told me to meet him at the old docking warehouses. Y-you know the ones? I mean, of course you do, you're the Batman. That's where I got the package. I don't know anything else!' The man babbled on, his eyes wide with fear.

Batman released the man, who landed with an ungraceful thump. A siren filled the air and flashing lights could be seen along the alley wall.

'Huh?' Disgruntled, the man turned toward Batman for guidance, but Gotham's defender had disappeared. Two policemen rounded the corner.

'Put your hands in the air and surrender your weapons!'

After having left the man in the hands of the police, Batman headed toward the waterfront district. The man was obviously nothing more than a pawn in the grand scheme of things.

 _BEEP BEEP_

Batman's comm went off, ceasing its alarm as he answered.

' _Master Bruce? Is everything alright? Reports of bombs have been broadcasted across the telly.'_

'It's fine, Alfred. I'm tracking the Riddler down as we speak.'

' _Ah, I see. Shall I send the Bat Mobile?'_

'No need. I'm almost there.'

' _*sigh* Then I will take the liberty of writing a check to the city's construction committee. Honestly, Master Bruce, have you no shame in desecrating the buildings you gallivant around and leap off of?'_

Batman growled before shutting off his comm. The waterfront district was nearly in front of him. As he leaped over a narrow alley, he noticed one of the Riddler's henchmen.

After nabbing the man and a few well-placed punches, the unfortunate bloke spilled his boss' location. Batman circled the building that Riddler was supposedly in. Along one side of the roof, there were sky lights; almost all were broken or completely missing from their frames. Slipping in, Batman crept along the small ledge and positioned himself near the corner of the building. Peering from the shadows, he observed a commotion taking place.

It was a little hard to make out the exact words, but Batman was able to catch the gist of it: there had been a delay with the delivery (thanks to him) and the plan that Riddler had worked on was in shambles. The police were looking for him and the media had been alerted. While the Riddler usually enjoyed putting his puzzles out into the open, this one was supposed to be a surprise.

So he was throwing something akin to a fit.

'NO NO NO. That's WRONG! What do I pay you for? Why do I pay you? That's a good question. Very good. I'll kill you, then.' _Bang._ 'Now. Nownownownow what to do, what to do? Ah, I see! Of course!' Spurred on by sudden inspiration, the Riddler began feverishly working on…something. His body was positioned so Batman couldn't quite see what contraption his enemy was fiddling with. But enough was enough. The Riddler had been placing bombs around Gotham and needed to be stopped. Before he destroyed everything.

'Ah, the Batman! I was wondering when you would join us.' Riddler spun around and leered at Batman, who had dropped from his post. 'Do you have some time? I have a fanTAStic riddle I'd love to try out on you. Er, with you. That's what I meant.'

'No. This has gone on long enough. Your time is up. You will not succeed in harming this city or the people who live here. Not while I still live.' With that, Batman rushed the Riddler, who jumped out of the way and tossed some specialty ?s at him.

'Answer me THIS, Batman!' He cackled.

With a roar, Batman dodged the Riddler's attack and tossed a bat-a-rang. The Riddler blocked the projectile and danced away from the Caped Crusader all the while throwing out ?s.

It was a fierce battle. The Riddler had the upper hand; he knew the layout of the building better than his opponent and had weapons stashed everywhere. But Batman refused to give up, fighting back with all of his strength.

'Ah, lookit! It's almost time for the bombs to go off. What a shame. We were making such progress.' The Riddler had paused to look at a mounted clock that had begun to count down. With a shrug, Riddler suddenly lunged at Batman. 'Let's finish THISSS!'

 _10_

Searching for a way to constrain the Riddler, Batman searched his surroundings and came up with something close to an actual plan.

 _9_

While dodging the Riddler's attacks and attempts to coerce him, Batman raced back through the warehouse, tossing bat-a-rangs at the Riddler, who was slowed by injuries. Batman himself was beginning to feel the fatigue set in; he had not been able to dodge all of the Riddler's attacks.

 _8_

As he raced by some crates with wires and hardware in them, he grabbed some cords and ducked into the shadows. The Riddler, who had not been far behind, cautiously peered into the shadows, holding his cane as he would a bat.

 _7_

'Come out come out wherever you are' The Riddler sang, eyeing his surroundings.

 _6_

Quickly, Batman stripped the cords of their rubber coat and strung the bare wires across two supporting poles that held up a banged up elevator shaft.

 _5_

Batman moved between two towers of crates, where he was sure that Riddler would see him and follow. And follow he did. With the Riddler right on his tail, Batman leapt over debris and circled back to where he had strung the wires.

 _4_

'You can't run forever!' Riddler screeched. Batman reached into his utility belt for one of his experimental electro-bat-a-rangs.

 _3_

Batman headed straight for the supports he had rigged with wire and activated his bat-a-rang, hooking it onto the wires, dodged underneath at the last second, barely avoiding getting electrocuted. Riddler was not so lucky. The shadows had hidden the wires from him until it was too late.

GYAAAAAAHAAAAA!

 _2_

A quick glance at the Riddler showed that he was out cold, at least for now. Batman threw one of his last bat-a-rangs at what could only be a control panel. With a droopy beeping, the numbers on the clock faded.

Batman let out a breath he didn't know he had been holding. Once again, Gotham was safe. He'd done what he'd had to do.

Sighing, Dr. Rheiddler pushed up his glasses and rubbed his eyes, sighing.

"How'd he do today?"

Looking up, Dr. Rheiddler saw Dr. Carr leaning against the door frame.

"It was…. interesting. As always. His imagination… it's… it's amazing really." Dr. Rheiddler stood up, grabbing the session notes. "I'll have the final report on your desk tomorrow."

"…I heard yelling."

"I guess some of my questions hit a nerve or two. I wish I could get more out of him, but after he retreats… it's hard." Dr. Rheiddler shook his head. Carr motioned for Rheiddler to walk with him.

"Ah, I forget you just joined us recently." Dr. Carr shook his head and laughed. "Bruce is pretty special. He completely lives in his head now. Gotham. He's the entity sworn to protect Gotham: Batman. And we doctors make cameos, of course."

"Why exactly is he here? I mean, this is a mental facility, but…"

"No, I understand. Bruce was fine until an accident occurred. You'll learn more when you get his patient file. Sorry 'bout that, by the way. There was a leak in the records room so everyone is kind of having to work around it. Our main objective is to get Bruce to understand that Gotham, that _Batman_ is a figment of his imagination. We're trying to ground him back into this world. The real world. Of course, he'll fight us with everything he has. But this is for his own good. If he can't realize the truth, he'll keep retreating into himself until he is unable to even eat. According to some projections."

"That's going to take a gentle hand." Dr. Rheiddler mused to himself.

"Yes. We're not trying to hurt him, even if he thinks so. My assistant and I are the primary doctors for Bruce, but he'll be seeing you every week as well."

"Alright. I'll definitely read through his file when I get it."

"I'll warn you, it's pretty big." Dr. Carr paused as the two came to a split in the hall. "I have to get back to Eyve's office. She wants to go over reports. We'll talk later."

Rheiddler nods and watches Carr begin to walk off. "Ah, actually…"

Carr paused "Hm?"

"Who are you?" Rheiddler asked. "In Bruce's mind, I mean."

"Oh, me?" Carr laughed, though it lacked any humor. "You'll probably hear him mention me a lot in your sessions.

To him, I am the Joker."


	2. Chapter 2

'It's time to get up, Bruce.'

Slowly, Bruce Wayne opened his eyes to see a familiar face looming above him.

'…Alfred.'

'Yes, that's right. It's time to get up now. Dr. Carr thought that it would be alright for you to skip morning exercises to sleep a little later.'

Slowly, Bruce sat up and blinked several times, trying to orient himself with his surroundings. He didn't remember going back to his room. The last thing he'd remembered was…what was it? Never mind, it couldn't have been important.

'Are you alright? Bruce?' Bruce focused his gaze on the older man next to him. Alfred. Alfred has been with him for a long time. Bruce's vision of the worried figure of Alfred wavered, Alfred's uniform overlapped with a suit. The one he always wears; with the W monogram on the lapel.

'Alfred, where are we?' Bruce stood up suddenly, realizing that he was no longer wearing the mask. 'We need to leave. Now.'

'Oh dear.' Alfred sighed, gently grabbing Bruce and pushing him back down. 'Bruce, we're in your room. It's all right.'

'No, it's not! We're in an undisclosed location and I've been unmasked. This is not the time to sit and wait!' Bruce pushed past Alfred and slipped behind the door, testing the knob. 'Okay. I'll head out first. Our first priority is to figure out where we are, and who brought us here. Stay close.'

'Bruce,' Alfred cautioned, slipping his hand to his back pocket, where his thumb hovered over the Call button. If he pushed it, security would come and physically restrain Bruce. Because Bruce was already in his separated state of mind, this could push him even further over the edge. Or, if luck was on Alfred's side, he could calm Bruce down and bring him back.

'Bruce, I'm sure that we are safe. If we weren't, wouldn't our hosts have tied us up? Everything's quite alright. Come sit down, I'll pull out some clothes.' Alfred moved toward the plain dresser, hoping Bruce would follow his example and comply.

'Bruce?' Alfred looked over his shoulder. The man wavered, looking between Alfred and the door. Tentatively, he stepped toward Alfred.

'That's right. Come on over. If you get dressed quickly, I believe we'll make it to the dining hall before the food runs out.' Alfred smiled and pulled out a set of sweatpants. All the patients were required to wear basic clothes, lest they try something.

Bruce began to reach for the clothes Alfred held out, but pulled back, making a choked noise. His eyes glazed over for a moment. He stumbled back before gaining his bearings.

'With me, Alfred!' With that, Bruce spun on his heel and made for the door.

Closing his eyes, Alfred sent a quick prayer up, reached back and pushed the Call button. Bruce had just thrown open the door and bolted into the hallway when the alarms went off, the locks on the doors activated and the security team rounded the corner of the hall.

'Halt!'

Bruce ignored them, probably not even hearing them, so deep was he in his fantasy. He continued to rush the guards, leaving them no choice but to use their Tasers. Bruce convulsed and collapsed. One of the security officers hauled Bruce's body up and heaved him over his shoulder.

'We'll take it from here, Mr. Pennyworth.' The captain nodded at Alfred, who was standing in the doorway of Bruce's room.

Silently, Alfred nodded and slipped back into the bare room. The alarm had been shut off and from the sound of it, the asylum had gone back to its regular schedule. Alfred looked around at Bruce's empty room. Unlike most patients, who personalized their room, even just a bit, Bruce's room was white. Like a blank slate.

Alfred had been working with Bruce since he was transferred to Arkham. Although he was a janitor, he had been specially assigned to Bruce after the withdrawn man had taken a liking to him. As Dr. Carr had mused, if Bruce was around someone he liked, it was possible that it might help Bruce distinguish between fantasy and reality.

Unfortunately, Bruce had simply added Alfred into his fantasy world as his faithful butler. And yet, Dr. Carr asked Alfred to continue helping with Bruce; Bruce saw the doctors, the other inmates, and the staff as enemies, but Alfred was the exception. So Alfred's schedule was re-worked around Bruce's. Alfred quickly grew attached to Bruce. The man was quiet and often sullen, but he was also kind. To Alfred. And occasionally another inmate. Bruce reminded Alfred of a child, even though Bruce was, in a word, ripped.

Alfred smiled to himself as he made Bruce's bed and cleaned up the clothes he had left on the floor. Bruce had a certain charm, Alfred supposed. He often didn't remind Alfred of the other patients in Arkham, yet when he distanced himself, it was quite obvious why he was there. Which was why Alfred was required to carry a Call remote.

 _I'm sorry Bruce._ Alfred thought to himself. Forcing his mind from what would happen when Bruce woke up.

'Uurrgh.'

Batman woke feeling woozy. The ceiling spun around and around, like a carousal on steroids. He attempted to get up, but found that he was bound to a table. Batman tested his restraints, finding that he couldn't break them. Not yet, at least. Whatever was in his system was working. He couldn't focus properly, but still tried to discern what was around him. Unable to do so -everything was blurred- he closed his eyes and sniffed the air.

Soil? So plants. That would explain the green.

'Poison Ivy.'

Batman still had his eyes closed, but he smelled the said woman come in the room.

'No, no, you know who I am, Bruce.' The woman chided gently.

'I am Batman. Release me, Ivy!' The man argued with the moving blob he reasoned to be Poison Ivy.

'That's not my name, dear. It's Eyve. Like hive, but without the h.'

Batman grunted, refusing to answer to her ridiculous claim. Ivy sighed through her nose.

'Well, anyway, _Bruce_ , you certainly gave the security detail reason to test the new Tasers. Do you even remember why you're here?' Ivy looked down at Batman through her glasses. Batman remained silent, testing his restraints.

Ivy sighed again and flipped her hair. 'You charged the security team and they brought you to me. The drug I gave you should be wearing off soon; please don't fight.'

As Ivy determined, the haze surrounding Batman lessened and he focused on the plant nearest to him. 'A fly-eater?'

'Oh! You've met my new beauty! Isn't it fantastic? And look at these hibiscuses! They aren't supposed to be in season, but there's this new strain that a farmer came up with.' Ivy's nose scrunched up. 'Isn't it horrible? Humans should just leave nature to itself. It's better that way.' She played with the leaves of one of the plants near her chair.

The haze was gone. Batman looked around the room again, able to accurately take in his surroundings. Unlike most exam rooms, this one was something special. Ivy had taken over, claiming it as her base. Plants of all sorts were everywhere, blooming and filling the room with splashes of color. Roots and vines covered the floor, a direct violation of safety hazards, though Batman figured that the violation wasn't on Ivy's list of things to worry about.

Ivy was watching him, a smug expression plastered across her face. Her hair had leaves scattered in it, and her green eyes watched him with amusement as she watched him struggle to break free of the roots holding him to the trunk of a tree.

'Hmm. I don't really have a reason to keep you, so I'll let my friend take care of you.' Ivy blew him a kiss and waved her hand. Part of the wall, which was made up of roots, Batman suddenly realized, opened and an old enemy stepped through.

'Two-Face.' Batman hissed, his body tensing. The monster of a man clicked open a pair of handcuffs.

'I've got this Ivy.' He smiled brightly.

Ivy moved the vines that held Batman's hands together and Two-Face clamped the metal around Batman's wrists. Still weak from Ivy's poison, Batman was unable to fight against Two-Face's sharp grip.

Leading Batman away from Ivy's lair, Two-Face steered Batman toward the solitary cells. Completely soundproof and without windows, it was the perfect place for Two-Face to work. Batman already knew what was coming.

Two-Face threw Batman into the cell and locked the door behind them.

'Now that it's just the two of us,' he began, cracking his knuckles, 'let's have some fun.'

Silently, Batman endured the beating Two-Face administered, refusing to scream or give Two-Face the satisfaction of seeing his pain. It was impossible to tell how long it went long. The longer Batman refused to give Two-Face what he wanted, the angrier Two-Face got.

Finally, when he felt like little more than a bloody pulp, he heard Two-Face grunt. 'Get up.'

Slowly, painfully, Batman rose unsteadily. Ivy's poison had never completely worn off. He'd have to ask Alfred for the remedy he'd used last time this had happened. Two-Face grabbed Batman's face and squinted.

He had a gift, Batman reluctantly admitted to himself. No matter how brutal Two-Face got, he never left bruises where others could see. Batman wasn't sure why, Two-Face was more than capable. He'd have to do some digging on the computer in the Bat Cave, he thought as he fell unconscious.

'Sir?'

Dr. Carr looked up from a patient report he was going over to see his assistant, Harleen Quinzell standing in the doorway, waiting for his attention.

'C'mon in, Harley.' Dr. Carr smiled, calling Harleen by an old nickname. Harleen blushed and quickly made her way across the room and dropped Dr. Eyve's report on her boss' desk.

'I-I was asked to give you this…' Harleen trailed off. She watched Dr. Carr read it, his face growing solemn.

'Is everything alright, sir?'

Dr. Carr passed her the file and watched her read it.

'Oh.'

'It seems, that after Bruce was admitted into Eyve's care, he was semi-delusional and spiraled down into a full delusion when the drug wore off.' Dr. Carr sighed, rubbing his face.

Harleen fidgeted. 'But if he was in a full-blown fantasy, why did he comply with Mr. Dent?'

'I don't think he did.' Dr. Carr steepled his fingers and leveled Harleen with a heavy stare. 'I've been watching Dent for a while, but I can't prove anything. He's smart.'

'I…don't think I understand.' Harleen lowered her gaze.

'I didn't expect you to. I believe Mr. Dent is abusing his position of authority, but I can't prove it. There's no video evidence and none of the inmates will testify.'

Harleen looked up quickly. 'So that's why you think Bruce, in his fantasy, places Mr. Dent in a villainous role?' She stopped, her mind working quickly. 'Oh. Two-Face.'

'Exactly.' Dr. Carr leaned back in his chair. 'For now, all we can do is wait. And give Alfred a heads-up about Bruce's probable mental state.'

'On it, sir.'

 **Author's note:** **Hi guys! Thanks for reading this so far. I really appreciate it. I've been wondering about what this AU would look like for a while, so I'm really glad you like it!**

 **That's all. I just wanted to say hi, and thanks.**


	3. Chapter 3

A shaking man lies on top of a bare bed. He is shuddering uncontrollably and cannot stop. He tries to call out, but is unable to emit anything from his throat.

 _It hurts_

Trembling, he struggles to regain some movement in his useless limbs, only to fall to the concrete floor. The impact tears the air out of his lungs. Gasping for breath, he writhes in pain.

 _It hurts_

The moment he leaves his body behind is evident. Though the shakes refused to stop, the man's body flops uselessly, it is only a withered shell. His body is still fighting; struggling to breathe, to live. But _he,_ his soul, his mind, is no longer tied to the body of the man called Bruce Wayne.

 ***Click***

'Ahem.' Dr. Jake Carr pushed his reading glasses up as he waited for the doctors in the room to transfer their attention from the projector to him.

'I know that some of you have been wondering what to do about Bruce, and,' Carr looked behind his shoulder at the frozen image of Bruce's body on the floor of his room. 'Why this was allowed to continue as it has. That's why I have called you all here today.'

Carr looked at the group of doctors who had been assigned to Bruce's case. Dr. Eyve, the medical specialist; Dr. Rheiddler, the psychiatrist; Dr. Kiyl, a newer doctor Carr had transferred to this case; and finally, Alfred, the janitor and the one person Bruce opened up to. Along with Harleen and himself, Bruce had five trained doctors and a janitor in his corner. He had a chance.

'I know I just transferred, but I want to actually do my job. Let's get to the point.' Dr. Kiyl tapped her long fingernails on her chair's armrest. She tossed her mane of hair over her shoulder and pierced Carr with her gaze.

'Allow me, Doctor.'

Carr hadn't even noticed Harley come up beside him. Harleen's lips were pursed and she stiffly began to explain to Kiyl the group's main focuses and goal.

'Part of our focus is to gradually extract-'

'I didn't ask you.' Kiyl leveled her cool gaze on Harleen, who in turn glared fiercely. Carr figured that he'd better break the two of them up before they started a catfight.

Apparently, Rheiddler had the same premonition.

'Ladies. If I may? This is rather counter-productive.' Rheiddler spoke slowly, trying to placate the two women.

'Hmph.' Both women turned away from each other, each resorting to ignoring the other.

'Why was that allowed to go on?' Eyve broke the silence, pointing an accusatory finger to the image still projected on the screen.

'We have security cameras in all of the rooms, which feed back into the main security booth. Unfortunately, at 2 in the morning, our security officer fell asleep. It was only by chance that Alfred decided to check on Bruce. By that time, the convulsions had stopped.' Carr stopped for a moment. 'Oh, of course the security officer was fired. We don't allow that kind of failure on the job.'

Carr didn't think it was relevant to mention that Eyve already knew this much; she was the doctor called in to check on Bruce after Alfred called him. Carr supposed it didn't matter, so long as Kiyl and Harley's tension had reached a ceasefire.

'So that's Alfred, then.' Kiyl gestured to the back of the room where Alfred had been standing, quietly waiting for a cue that he was dismissed.

Carr nodded and Kiyl seemed to accept Alfred's presence. For the moment. Refusing the chair offered to him, Alfred remained stationed by the door. 'Please, pretend I'm not even here.' He requested.

Eyve shrugged. 'Okay Carr, spill. You've been giving us bits and pieces of your treatment plan, but we need to know the whole thing. Now. Bruce isn't getting any better.'

Carr fiddled with the projector, 'A moment, please.' He requested before jiggling the projector. 'I can't seem to find… the button…'

The picture of Bruce was replaced by Carr's documented plan.

'Ah! I found it, see?' Carr triumphantly put the projector down and looked up, meeting Harley's gaze. She was across the room where the computer she'd linked to the projector was. She raised her eyebrow.

Sheepishly, Carr laughed and cleared his throat. Kiyl looked somewhat amused, but Eyve was more than ready to get the show on the road.

'Ah, sir?' Harleen called out, 'Before we start, I feel it's necessary for your assistant, me, to point out to you that your laugh sounds like a donkey dying and it makes people uncomfortable.'

Carr blinked, astonished. 'Is it really that bad?' He looked around. Indeed, Rheiddler looked to be in some pain and even Alfred was looking uncomfortable.

'Yes, sir. And the donkey that's dying? It's dying in slow motion. And-'

'Okay, Harley. You made your point.' Carr waved his hand and cleared his throat once more. 'So, ah, as I began working with Bruce, I realized that the regular tactics we would use wouldn't be useful in Bruce's case. His delusions are very strong; I feared that if we tried to engage him slowly, his subconscious would rebel and he would immediately retreat into his mind. But if we try to extract him too fast, he'd be far more likely to shut down for good. Our goal is to keep Bruce grounded in the real world so he can have a normal life.'

'So too slow is as harmful as too fast. Why not use both? To create a middle pace.' Kiyl suggested.

'I thought about that, but unfortunately, Bruce is very perceptive and if he senses someone trying to question his imaginary world -Gotham-he will fight back. The moment he registers that you are going to try and take him from his city, his mind will cast you in the role of a villain. Once he sees you as a villain, you are completely shut out. That's part of the reason I requested your transfer, Doctor Kiyl.' Carr explained. 'You're sneaky. You have a way of getting into people's heads without them realizing it; I'm hoping you can use your charm on Bruce.'

'What about Alfred?' Kiyl asked.

'Alfred is simply being Alfred. His job isn't to inquire about patients or work with them. Because Alfred is kind to all of the inmates, especially Bruce, Bruce has cast him in the role of his alter-ego's close friend/confidant/trusted individual. Use whichever word you'd like.' Rheiddler explained.

'Hmm.' Kiyl nodded thoughtfully. 'I think I see.'

'Harley,' Carr called out to his assistant. 'Will you pass out the schedule?' Harleen nodded and grabbed a stack of files, quickly passing them out to everyone in the room. She came up short when she got to Alfred.

'Oh, Alfred doesn't need one.' Carr clarified, 'His job is to keep being Bruce's friend. You can leave now, Alfred, but I'd suggest sticking around, we'll be going over the regimen we'll be focusing on.'

Rheiddler offered Alfred the seat next to him, holding out his own file for Alfred to look at. Alfred took the seat but gently pushed the file back toward Rheiddler. Alfred was smart, but all of the doctor mumbo-jumbo went over his head.

'As you all can see,' Carr began, 'You each have a different treatment plan. The one you have in your hands now should help your treatments with Bruce; but you can alter them as long as I give you the go-ahead. You'll be receiving copies of each other's regimen to build upon what your teammates have started.'

Carr stood over the seated doctors, his eyes flashing. 'We will be a… united front.'

The room was silent as each doctor poured over his or her schedule.

'But, sir…' Rheiddler ran a hand through his hair, 'This is…'

'Crazy.' Kiyl snarled, interrupting Rheiddler's exclamation. 'You want us to do this? To him? You're out of your mind.'

Eyve leaned back in her chair. 'I'm not sure I'm comfortable with this, Carr.'

Carr sighed, 'It does seem a little crazy, doesn't it? I was looking over some projections of Bruce's mental state that Harley collected. The graphs we've got show significant damage, each time we do another psych evaluation, which is every six weeks,' Carr added for Kiyl 'We see that Bruce is steadily declining. So, if we're going to save Bruce, we need to do this.'

Carr noticed Alfred had stiffened up during his speech. The janitor was looking over Rheiddler's shoulder; though Alfred lacked a degree, even he recognized how strict the proposed treatments would be.

'It's to help him, Alfred.' Carr's gentle tone caused Alfred to look up. The doctor was looking at him, a sad smile playing at his lips 'If we don't do this, Bruce will never have a chance.'

Closing her file, Kiyl stood up. 'If that's all, I'll be heading to my office. I'll need to unpack a few things before starting this.' She waved the file around.

Eyve stretched and followed Kiyl out. 'I'll have to order some of these medicines. I've never heard of this one…' She muttered to herself as the door closed behind her.

Rheiddler sat for a while before slowly standing. He looked at Carr for a moment before shaking his head. 'I'm still not sure about this.' He made his way to the door, still shaking his head. The door closed, and Alfred was left in the room with Carr and Harleen.

'Alfred?' Harleen tentatively called out.

'It's fine, Harley. I'll talk to him.' Carr dismissed his assistant.

'I've told you not to call me Harley.' Harleen spun on her heal and stalked out the door. Carr blinked at the sudden change in Harleen's demeanor.

'Women, eh?' He shrugged and chuckled.

Alfred looked up at Carr, who had perched on Rheiddler's vacant chair.

'You'll help him, right Alfred?' Carr questioned.

 _This is for Bruce's own good_. Alfred chanted to himself. The treatment was harsh, yes, but without it? The consequences would be devastating.

'How long do we have?' Alfred hadn't even realized he'd spoken until Carr tapped his chin and answered.

'Due to the deteriorating state of Bruce's mind, I say we have fifteen weeks. We'll either see some improvement, or nothing at all. If by the end of those fifteen weeks Bruce's mind has still deteriorated, it's nearly impossible that we'll be able to help him.'

Carr stared solemnly at Alfred.

'If the treatments don't help him, Bruce will be forever doomed as the Batman.'


	4. Chapter 4

The rain was pounding on the roof of the Wayne manor. Alfred, having been making a trip to the kitchen entered and offered Bruce a cup of steaming tea.

'Master Bruce. May I ask what is going on within your mind?'

Bruce had been staring intently across the room, his brooding gaze seeing nothing in particular. His eyes swiveled to his faithful butler.

'You look anxious.' Bruce grunted, accepting the tea.

Alfred gave a weak smile and gestured toward the door. 'We should be leaving soon, Master Bruce. Meal times wait for no one.'

Bruce made a noncommittal noise; he was not pleased with the constant coaxing Alfred had recently been offering. The walking-on-eggshells attitude Alfred had been toeing was frustrating; as the Batman, he needed Alfred to be strong; to deal with background matters – the small details were sometimes the most wracking.

'Master Bruce?' Alfred peered at Bruce's face. 'Your t-tea will get cold… if…'

Bruce stared down into the tea's tinted depths. He sniffed it before raising it to his lips.

'Alfred.' Bruce paused, 'You can go now.' Alfred had been fidgeting with his hands, having already fixed and played with the other objects in the room.

'Ah, then I'll… excuse myself.' Alfred bowed his head and made a quick exit. Bruce squinted at his butler's fading back. He was off, Bruce thought.

He glanced down at the tea he still held. Placing it on the table beside him, he stood and began to pace. What could have bothered Alfred? Alfred was like a father to him; he didn't get flustered so easily. He again glanced at the tea. And when was he so paranoid about Alfred?

Bruce rubbed his face. He would have to go out again tonight, but not while he was in this state. His ears picked up movement outside the door. Bruce stiffened, listening.

'Sir?'

Alfred. Of course it was Alfred.

'It's alright.' Bruce replied, turning his back to the door. He heard Alfred enter the room.

'It's time to go downstairs and eat.' Alfred reached for the teacup. 'You didn't drink any.'

Bruce turned on his heel and stalked over to Alfred. He grabbed the cup and drained the cool tea. 'Happy?'

It was a split second, but Alfred's face fell before lifting up again to a neutral expression. Bruce studied him carefully.

'Alfred?'

'Yes?' Alfred raised his brows.

Bruce pursed his lips. It was possible he had imagined the micro expression. More than possible, considering the amount of sleep he'd been getting lately.

Alfred led the way down to the dining hall. The dark carpeted halls of Wayne manor began to waver. Bruce grunted in pain, holding his head. The walls began to vibrate, changing from dark, muted colors to bright stark white.

'Master Bruce? Bruce? Bruce?'

'Al… fred?' Blinking slowly, Bruce suddenly found himself in the cafeteria. He looked around wildly, trying to understand where he was. The last he remembered, he'd been in his room doing…. what? He couldn't remember. Could he? No.

A gentle hand landed on his shoulder. 'Bruce, it's alright.'

Turning, Bruce started when he heard a female voice. His eyes flicked up and down her body, agitatedly trying to understand. She wasn't wearing patient clothes, but she didn't wear a coat. Well, a doctor's coat. She wore a leather half back jacket over sleek black clothes. She was kind of pretty, he supposed, if you went for the dark smoky look.

'It's alright. Alfred told me to give you this.' She held out a Styrofoam cup with some tea in it. Tea. He liked tea. More than the coffee that was served. And Alfred sent her.

'Can I sit?' She gestured to the empty seat beside her. Alfred sent her, Alfred sent her, Alfred sent her. Bruce repeated his mantra in his head before nodding slowly.

'Awesome!' She plopped down in the seat. 'I'm Kiyl-' She shook her head suddenly, 'Ah, I mean Selena. Selena Kiyl. Sorry, I've been in Japan recently. You know how it is, traveling between countries. The customs and such.'

Bruce blinked. She spoke a lot. And fast.

'Anyway,' She chirped before stopping. It was if a flip had been switched. Her peppy talk and mischievous eyes disappeared, replaced with a sultry attitude and a slow, sexy voice. 'You can call me 'Kitty'.

Bruce turned away to his food. Kitty pouted. 'Sooo mean, Bruce. Just ignoring me like that.'

Refusing to look at her, Bruce stared into his unappetizing food. The lady in the seat kept talking, even poking him. No. This was not okay. Alfred sent her. Alfred sent her. No. She keeps poking him. He doesn't like her. She's touchy-feely.

'…go away.'

It was a mutter into the unenticing mulch. Kiyl stopped for a minute, evaluating. Bruce was quiet; he didn't like it when she bothered him. He didn't seem enticed when she switched her charms. So this wouldn't help him open up to her.

But maybe it would bring out the Batman.

'Go away.' Bruce's plea was a little louder.

'But BruUUUuuuce.' Kiyl whined, playfully batting his tense shoulder. It would only be a little longer, now.

'Go away.'

'But-'

'GO AWAY. GO AWAY. GO AWAYGOAWAYGOAWAYGOAWAYGOAWAY.' Bruce shouted, his hands clasped over his ears. He shoved himself from the table. The guards stationed around the cafeteria reacted quickly, grabbing Bruce and pushing him to the ground.

Screaming, Bruce writhed under the bodies of the guards who were physically restraining him. He fell limp but the guards didn't relinquish their hold. They knew what would come next.

Bruce suddenly roared, his vengeance restored, and began swinging his fists, throwing off a few guards. They called to each other, finally able to restrain him. A sharp buzz briefly filled the air, a Taser had been used. Bruce's body slumped, only being held up by the guards who were closest to him. They began to escort him out of the cafeteria. Most likely down to Eyve's workroom.

The rest of the inmates, who had been silently watching Bruce's outrage, went back to their meals, their conversations creating a buzz in the air. Kiyl, perched on the table she and Bruce had just occupied stared at the door the security team had ushered Bruce through.

She smirked to herself. This would be a fun one.

Batman awoke to the sound of streaming water. He opened his eyes slowly, better his captors believe that he was subdued and unconscious than the alternative. He flexed his wrists, only to find he couldn't. Looking down, he noticed vines wrapped around his body, cocooning him. The room around him was full of plants and though he couldn't see any, streams.

Ivy strode into view. 'How kind of you to join us, Bruce.' She moved toward him.

'I don't really feel the need for pleasantries today. You've decided who I am, so I'll pass on the small talk. I'm giving you this.' She held up a syringe. Batman squinted at her.

'You'll have to do more than that to scare me, Ivy.'

She sighed. 'It'll make you sleepy and achy. Relax, it won't hurt too much.'

She reached for Batman's arm, to plunge the syringe into his veins. He allowed her, only to twist at the last moment so she would miss his vein. She cursed.

'I don't have time for this! Crane!' Ivy screeched over her shoulder. A lopsided man hobbled into view. Batman's eyes widened.

'Scarecrow.'

The man had a bag over his face. His ratty clothes hung loosely. He looked to Ivy for instruction.

'Grab his arm.' She commanded, her cold gaze meeting Batman's own. 'Stop struggling.'

Despite his lanky appearance, Scarecrow had a sharp grip. He held something to Batman's face. 'Are you scared?'

'Don't ask him anything. He won't answer.'

Ivy's voice faded. Whatever Scarecrow had held to his face, it was doing something. Batman struggled to keep his eyes opened. He felt the cold metal of Ivy's syringe plunge into his skin.

They were saying something.

What?

The world around Batman closed to black, his last image was of the two faces leering down at him.

* * *

Doctor Joe Carr stared across his desk at the belligerent boy glowering at him. Harley was beside him, looking through the boy's file.

'So.' Carr folded his hands. 'You're in. I would say congratulations, but I'm not sure that applies here. We aren't exactly Harvard.'

The boy spat at Carr in response.

Carr wiped his face in disgust. 'How kind. Now, Richard-'

'Dick.'

Harley's head shot up. 'Excuse me?' She stepped toward the boy, gritting her teeth.

'Harley,' Carr cautioned. 'Easy.'

The boy harrumphed. 'If you gotta call me my name, call me the right one.'

'Alright Dick.' Carr smiled. 'I'll check in with you tomorrow and go over some of other policies. Official stuff.' Carr stuck his tongue out. 'Not very fun, eh?'

Dick glowered at Carr. The security officer, who had stationed himself near the door, headed over and grabbed Dick's arm.

Roughly escorted down the white-washed hallways, Dick barely had time to look around his new cage. Occasionally some inmates would walk down the hall with their own entourage with security officers.

'Uumphh.' Dick grunted, running into someone. He landed on his backside and scowled up at the inmate in front of him.

Unlike the other patients, the man was accompanied by a janitor. The janitor apologized for his companion's blunder. The inmate was tall, he stared blankly ahead. He swayed slightly, leaning heavily on the janitor.

'Hey!' Dick surprised himself by launching himself up and standing face to face, well, face to stomach with the man. Slowly, the man lowered his head, making uneasy eye contact with the boy. Even though the man was drugged, he had an undeniable sharpness, a darkness, that even the drugs could not hide.

Dick unconsciously stepped back. The man and the janitor continued on their way, the janitor occasionally mumbling to the man. The security officer that escorted Dick pushed him toward the stairs. Just before climbing the first step, Dick looked back.

The man, alone now, was staring at him. Even from some distance, the man's penetrating stare was almost paralyzing. He nodded slowly.

Having had enough, the security officer escorting Dick, bodily lifted him and carried up the stairs. Even out of sight, Dick's mind was plagued with the image of the man. Staring. Watching. Calculating.

Something wasn't right.

* * *

 **AN:** Hello my beautiful readers! I am _so_ sorry about the wait. Hopefully the new chapter makes up for it.

Anyway, I'd like to let all of you know that I will be changing the title of the story soon. 'Hidden Truth' was just a filler name.

I felt I should alert you of that. That's all.

Again, thank you soooo much for reading!


	5. Chapter 5

It might have been just him, but there was something about that man Dick had run into on his first day that felt weird.

Dick pulled himself up from a stretch and bent back down. It was right before lights out when everyone was settling down and the screaming had stopped that Dick was left to his thoughts. He'd been here for about a month, and the consistent regimen got old on the third day. Everyone did the same things, wore the same clothes, and ate the same food. Everyone except him.

The man with the janitor was the only one in the joint who seemed to have his own schedule. Dick noticed that the blander the environment, the more often the man would appear accompanied by the janitor and the weird lady doctor.

'Lights out!' The guard outside the inmates' rooms called out.

'That means you, Grayson.' The guard rapped his knuckles on Dick's door. Grumbling, Dick straightened up and plodded over to the bed. Throwing himself down on the flimsy mattress, Dick rolled over and listened to the lights in the hallway shut off one by one.

A heavy silence settled over the inmates of Hallway C. Other hallways were loud with rambling inmates and the occasional madman screaming bloody murder. Dick turned back over and waited for sleep to take him.

But it didn't.

It had to have been hours he'd been lying on his mattress, listening to inmate after inmate quiet down until the asylum was empty. Dick shuddered. The silence was suffocating. Tossing his blanket off of him, Dick rolled over hoping to find another position. Sleep had never eluded him like this before.

 _Squeak_

At first Dick thought he'd just imagined it, but he kept hearing it as it grew closer.

 _Squeak_

 _Squeak_

Silently dropping out of bed, Dick pushed himself against the door and peered out the slot that the guards used to be sure that the inmates were in their rooms. It hadn't originally opened from both sides, but Dick took some liberty with his new room and tampered with a few things.

 _Squeak_

It was almost outside his door. Dick slowly put his face closer to the slot. The squeaking noise had stopped, but a lone wheelchair had been stationed outside; there was someone in it. The man! Dick traded the safer position of standing by the door to stand in front of it.

It was definitely the man. Right? Something was off, though. More than usual. The man was limp, it looked like he was buckled _into_ the wheelchair. He wasn't using a wheelchair earlier – he didn't seem to need one either.

Actually, now that Dick thought about it, he hadn't seen the man in almost a week. Dick shook himself out of his thoughts and focused back on the man.

His head was floppy, his face hidden by his hair. His body was shaking and he seemed a bit thinner than Dick remembered.

'Hey!' Dick whisper yelled at the man. 'Hey! Are you okay?'

The man didn't answer. Dick backed away from the door and looked around the room for something long that he could use to poke the man. He couldn't be dead, could he? No, he was shaking.

Failing to find any tools, Dick peered through the slot again.

'Hey! Old man!'

No answer. Dick grumbled beneath his breath; he was about to call again when the man's head shot up suddenly. Shakily searching around his new environment, the man locked eyes with Dick.

'Hi?' Dick whispered hesitantly.

'Who are you.' It wasn't so much a question as it was a statement. The man obviously expected an answer.

'Uh, Dick. Dick Grayson.'

The man studied him. 'Do you know where we are?'

Dick squinted. 'Arkham Asylum.'

The man cursed. 'Then he's gotten his hands on you and me. He has to be stopped. His plans are too deadly for me to allow him to succeed.'

'That's…nice.' Dick said dubiously. The man was obviously crazy. Dick studied the him while he continued muttering to himself. The guy's clothes were dirty, he shook and rambled. And his eyes were rolling around in his head.

'…. it's his fault that- '

'Who's "he"?' Dick interrupted. While he wasn't normally the type of guy to listen to this nut, something about the man demanded one to listen to his words.

The man looked at him again. 'Him. The Joker.'

Joker. Joker. Wait, wasn't that one guy…. What was he called? Carr?

'You mean Dr. Carr?'

'That's his alias.' The man solemnly responded.

'Okaaay?'

'Bruce!' A new voice interrupted the man, who had opened his mouth to speak. The janitor rushed over to the man's – no, to Bruce's side and began fretting over him.

'Oh, Bruce, how many times have I told you not to wheel away? Don't stress your body by pushing your wheelchair! And honestly, how did you even get here? Oh!'

The janitor paused his scolding when he saw Dick.

'Ah, I'm sorry if he woke you.'

'Nah, I was up. Why was he alone?' Dick blurted out.

The janitor colored, 'I was momentarily preoccupied. It was my fault, I wholeheartedly apologize. And,' he paused pulling out an old pocket watch. 'It seems we're late, Bruce. Please, excuse us Richard.'

'Alfred, you can't call him that.' Bruce chided.

Alfred looked down at his companion briefly before looking back to Dick. 'Oh, I'm sorry…'

'Dick.'

'…Dick.'

'Alfred! He'll hear!' Bruce growled, peering past Alfred into the hallway.

'I've told you, he's not a threat. He's a friend. Dr. Carr is trying to help you Bruce.' Alfred soothed.

'No NO NO. That's not my name! Joker will hear! We need to evacuate the civilians and face Joker on equal turf. Gotham isn't safe if I can't protect it! These straps! Wh-where did they….no never mind. That's not the point. Alfred, I'm missing my utility belt, I need you to find something to help me break my bonds. I…can't…. get…themmm ...' Bruce began straining against his bonds.

Alfred quickly moved behind the wheelchair and began pushing Bruce down the hall. 'Come along, Bruce, we mustn't be late for your medication.'

'Alfred! I need to save Gotham! Joker must be stopped! I must get to the Bat-Cave; the city _needs_ Batman!'

'Shh, shhh, it's alright Bruce. It'll be okay.' Alfred hushed.

'NoNONONONO!'

Dick mutely watched Bruce begin struggling against his restraints, the chair and even Alfred, who was trying to calm him – a futile effort.

Alfred began quickly moving down the hallway, half pushing half carrying Bruce in the wheelchair. Right before he was swallowed by the darkness' gaping maw, Bruce twisted and locked eyes with Dick.

'Be strong, don't let him break you! I'll find you Robin!'

* * *

Dick stared up at his ceiling. Bruce and Alfred had disappeared and despite Bruce's outbursts the other patients didn't seem to have woken up. Despite the excitement, Dick still hadn't managed to fall asleep. He couldn't stop thinking about Bruce and his panicked claims.

And calling him Robin, what was up with that? Maybe the guy thought he was someone else? No, he knew who Alfred was. He knew Dr. Carr, just by another name.

Dick huffed and tossed around on the stupid mattress. What was it about that guy? Everyone here was a certified wacko – even him, but something about that guy.

'Aauuugh.' Dick groaned into his pillow. He was never going to get to sleep was he? Stupid Bruce.

Despite himself, Dick couldn't help but want to talk to the guy more. He was kind of interesting, what with his weird personalities and strange schedule. And the medication that Alfred guy talked about? Why would Bruce need medication in the middle of the night? Dr. Eyve didn't live at the Asylum (as funny as Dick thought that would be, a crazy lady giving drugs to crazy people) so she must be going out of her way to medicate Bruce.

And that was when Dick Grayson decided to sneak out of his room and follow Bruce and Alfred to see what this 'medication' was. He didn't have the tools or a plan, so he'd have to come up with something. Fine, he'd done that stuff before.

So Dick Grayson lay there, staring at his ceiling and plotted a jailbreak. Asylumbreak. Who cares? And along with his plans, the numerous questions he had swirled around in his mind like a runaway tornado.

Why? Why Bruce? What was special about him? What was this medication? Why was it secret? Why were the doctors going so far out of their schedules? Why is Bruce strapped to a wheelchair? Why, no How did he deteriorate so quickly in a week? The shaking, the rolling eyes, the ramblings? The panicked looks? He wasn't like this before, was he? No, at least nowhere near this bad. So what caused him to crash? Why why why?

There were too many questions. Dick screamed into his pillow. This stupid place! With its stupid secrets and stupid staff and stupid Bruce and this. Stupid. Mattress.

It could drive someone mad.

* * *

 **AN:** Hi guys! I am so sorry about the super long wait. This story requires my full attention so I can't do it halfway. And since my mind is usually split between a few subjects at all times, it's hard to find a good time to write.

But I did it! It's a little shorter than usual, but eh. An update is an update, no?

I hope you like it!

#LetDickSleep


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